Tomorrow, maybe
by FeatherInTheOcean
Summary: Nothing could be worse than disrupting a predictable stable life, she thought. Nothing could be worse than getting stuck in the sea, she thought. Nothing could definitely be any worse than drifting on a stupid boat with a pirate who had a fortune for a bounty on his head, she thought. But the worst...it often comes packaged with the best. She was just beginning to find out.[AcexOC]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. It rightfully belongs to Oda Eiichiro.**

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Drowning

Even before she had fallen right into the heart of a crisis she'd worked almost her whole life to avoid, Xena had the premonition of a day screwed up to max.

That morning, she'd woken up feeling queasy and highly irritable. Her stomach was oddly churning and just as she was coming full well to her senses from a frustrating, sleepless night, she found herself on her knees in the tiny washroom retching last night's dinner out of her system. After her stomach was satisfactorily hollowed out, she washed some med without half a notice down her throat with fruit juice that tasted as stale as the molding bread on her little kitchen slab—satisfied, however, that it was only because of the aftertaste of the vomit. As she lay face down in her messed up bed, she made mental notes of tasks that lay ahead of her for the day. This was something of a daily ritual—making up a task list for the day every morning before getting on with it—only, normally, she preferred doing that with a fresh mind, sitting down at the little table which substituted for both dining table and study table—pretty much any kind of table one might need in the house. Structuring the day was, for the most part, the most soothing task of her day so she felt in control of every little detail and in turn, a kind of stability that had been the mantra that had guided her life for eighteen whole years—or more like the thirteen years that she'd been living on her own after her mother had smiled her last.

Her mother, she'd been a complete opposite—spontaneous and unpredictable and the five fleeting years that she remembered the most vividly were full of bittersweet memories—frustrated moments when she swore to live a more predictable and stable life, joyous moments when she looked up to the strong, sweet woman that was her mother, and moments of childish confusion when she was riddled with questions about her origin, her existence and her life.

She cursed under her breath as a tear rolled down the bridge of her nose and disappeared in the creases of her pillow. Breathing deep, she decided it was only a reaction of her stinging eyes, thanks to the morning's (un)pleasantries. And then she jerked out of the bed, running to the sink throwing up more junk out of her apparently empty stomach. The day, no doubt, was off to a bad start, she confirmed as she collapsed on the floor, curling in on herself, right cheek pressed against the cool tiles to provide some comfort.

She ticked off the morning shift job at the town's only bookstore where she earned half her living. She'd have to apologize and explain her absence, even though the owners were too considerate to reprimand her. On her way to the later shift at the bar she worked at, she would drop by and return the borrowed books too. Till she lost all her energy and closed her eyes for a short nap, she kept adding and ticking off tasks on her mental list.

It wasn't until the sun was completing its journey for the day in the western half when she woke up and, cursing the sudden sickness and sleep, started rushing around, getting ready for the job. She felt rejuvenated and despite the lapse in her day's schedule, thanked the long hours of sleep that soothed away all the morning's queasiness and finally returned her stomach to a healthy hunger. She'd grab something to eat on the way to the bar and hoping nothing major happened—which almost never did, considering it was a small, sleepy town, tucked unnoticed, far away from the mainland—she would be able to get back to her bed in time and the stable cycle of life would be back on track from the next day on. That thought comforted her as she passed the bookstore, deciding to do the apology-explaining stuff later on her way back as she glanced at the clock on the tower in the main square and picked up her pace, backpack bouncing, bracing for another stinking late evening.

The bell jingled as she slid apologetically into the dingy little shack and put on an apron and tied her hair back in a bandanna to start serving food and drinks. The owner of the bar sighed through the smoke of his pipe as she took up two loaded trays in her hands and looked into the direction he pointed.

As loud and lively as the place always was, a fight was not welcome. Which was exactly what seemed to have broken out in one corner occupied by a few bandits she recognized by those dusty little posters stuck in the back alleys. The belligerent lot were apparently yelling and shaking their fists at a man who seemed to have fallen asleep in the middle of eating and wasn't even twitching at the loud crashes.

Xena sighed, knowing _exactly_ what the frustrated puffs of smoke from the owner meant. Even though he was the owner, he never tried doing anything for the bar on his own. Well, he paid her well so she was no one to complain. But she was _especially_ supposed to take care of most of the crazy business. Managing—at least minimizing the damage—to the bar was a tough job to do when they had all kinds of rogues landing up in the bar and getting drunk and creating a ruckus. She personally felt people came looking just for fights at the bar to release their frustrations.

"I got this," she grumbled as she made her way to the tables.

Counting three bandits against one sleeping, almost-boy-but-not-quite man, she put on a murderous scowl and spoke in a loud voice, "Three ganging up on one seems kinda unfair, don't it?" she walked up to the group and stood between the bandits and the young man.

"Get the hell away, kid," the bandit with a _very_ sour face—she presumed to be the leader—growled. "This ain't none of yer shitty business."

"Oh but it is," she glowered. "You'd better take this little scuffle of yours out or I'll have you pay ten times over for every glass you break here."

"Heh," he grinned contemptuously, crashing a bear mug to the floor just to prove a point as his sidekicks sniggered. "Y'see, brat, I'm kinda pissed here and ye'd do good to get lost unless ya wan' me ta send yeh flying. Now, scram."

"That'd be five hundred belli," she said firmly, glancing at the owner who was now shaking his head incredulously. If she didn't have the moron pay for the damage, she realized, it'd get cut from her paycheck.

"Wench," sour-face growled, raising his huge fist. But before she could prepare to dodge, the young man who'd probably slept off in the middle of the original scuffle yawned loudly and blinked before getting back to feasting as if nothing in his world was out of the ordinary. Shortly, he looked up at the bandits and regarded them with an amused kind of smirk before getting back to stuffing his mouth with food. He had a rather good-looking freckled face, she noted as the bandits turned back on him. He wore a long coat open on the front and a hat that looked rather classy and amusing at the same time. In the back of her head, she registered knowing him from somewhere but couldn't quite place his face in recent memory.

"You scum," the bandit snarled.

So much for the job, she stepped in between again and before the bandit could land a punch to the nonchalant man's face, Xena dodged and smashed her elbow hard into his chin. One good thing about being swift and tiny—the surprise element always worked for her. The bandit stumbled back into his two pets, knocking over a table, tipping it and sending all the glasses down in a loud crash. From the corner of her eye, she saw the owner scowl and decided it was getting rather out of hand.

"Bitch," he roared, standing back up and rubbing his chin. Blood trickled down from his mouth. "I'm getting' ya back fer this."

She shook her head mentally knowing she'd gone ahead and done it now. For the most part of her calculation, though, she knew mad bandits were far easier to handle. So she did what she knew would be the last straw—she smirked.

"Sure," she said smoothly, though her stomach was in knots inside her.

Raising her hands up, she started walking to the doorway. She could not afford to have the bar damaged any more than it already was. Deciding it was high time she took it out of there, she glanced at the owner and he nodded. If she could get rid of the rogues, she'd have her paycheck. So much for the job of the day. She was almost to the door when she heard a familiar click.

"Yer so gunna regret gettin' cocky with a bandit, brat," she heard him grin through his words as he pressed the cool metallic point of the gun to her temple.

"Right," she said, gulping as she successfully covered the last few steps out of the bar and heard the door shut them out. Her paycheck, for one, was safe. About herself, she was going to have to do some recalculations quick and cool.

"Now that I see…" the bandit barked, pinching her face in his hand and turning it his way to have a better look. "You don't got a face half-bad."

"Yeah," she twisted away, holding her breath to get away from the reek of the booze. "Thanks!" she said in a mock-cheer as she smiled a sarcastically sweet smile.

"Tie her up," the bandit snarled at his lackeys, holding back from slapping her across the face. "I got better idea to get profit outta chicks as this one."

As they tied her up and prodded her to walk, holding the gun to her back, she breathed quick, deep breaths, working out how to get out of the rather self-created mess. As she assessed, they only had one gun at hand. Her hands, thanks to a little deceptive trick, were tied loosely and with a little struggle and squeezing, she could free herself. Before she could work up the courage and the right spot to make a break for it, she realized they'd walked up to the shore. A bit of the earlier churning returned to her stomach as she watched the waves wash up and down the sandy beach. Taking three deep breaths, each one a countdown, she closed her eyes. At three, with all the volunteered courage, she swerved to her left and swiftly kicked the gun out of the bandit's hand. Another kick and the gun was out of reach. Next came the wriggling and struggling as she ran towards the only direction unguarded by the three bandits—the sea.

On her part, the grave miscalculation was the errors drunkenness could create. As she tugged hard at her hand, she realized the disorderly fashion in which the rope had been tied around her hands was stuck good and tight and she couldn't after all free herself. The brief hesitation that followed this destructive discovery and the aversion to the billowing sea was enough for the sour-faced bandit—growing sourer by the second—to catch her by the back of her neck, twirl her around and slap her across the face with the back of his hand. She landed in the sand breathing raggedly, her lip cut and bleeding.

"Dun get cocky, y'bitch," the bandit said, kicking her in the back before his lackeys picked her up and tossed her into their little boat like some plundered commodity. She wriggled and kicked as they pushed off the shore. Once in the sea, she knew she'd lose any chances of fighting back. Sea was synonymous to terror.

As she lay there, shuddering and coughing, she realized the food she'd shoved down on her way was about to come back up right then. Her case of seasickness was rather extreme in that way… the undulating rocking of the hard board and the lapping, gurgling sound of water against the wood was enough to bring all stuff back from the stomach through her throat and out. In all this, she failed to notice a hard bump and consequent violent rocking of the boat. As she prepared to retch, she heard the shouts of the bandits over the deafening roar of the sea and her own heartbeats thudding in her eardrums. The next moment she realized she was hauled up and tossed into water after the rope binding her was cut loose.

Fear overpowered her as she saw water wash over, going down—maybe up or sideways—the whole world twirled until she lost all sense of direction. There was no gravity. She broke out to the surface once—probably twice—but her body and mind were so paralyzed, she could not draw breath. She was just drowning—the way of death she'd feared most. Her hands clutched at nothing, trying to hold onto something to pull her out but she kept going down. She heard deafening splashes as if something heavy breaking the surface of the sea which seemed rather calm now that it was devouring her. As she closed her eyes, in one futile attempt she kicked weakly and her hand partly came up. If only, she could breathe through it. Now she was going down again, never to come back up.

But before her will resigned to the overpowering waves, her hand closed in around something—something warm and pleasant. And she was being saved as her body went limp. Whatever her hand had held onto for help was now clutching it. And then, everything went black—not in the unknown frightening way, but with the warmth of surety.

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**A/N: My babble space! This isn't my first OC fanfic, much less a first fanfic in general. I just really wanted to post it somewhere other than my current ff-dot-net account. Anyway, much as OC fanfics are scarcely appreciated, I wasn't even thinking of writing one for One Piece. But this one just kind of stuck in my head considering (and this is just my viewpoint) the injustice that's been done to Ace's death. RIP, Ace-sama.**

**Next chapter will be posted soon. In the meantime, let me know how bad this one is. Yeah, so review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.**

A/N: So hello there. I was dead… not really, I was just travelling more than I like. Then after a week I realized I hadn't checked my mail and then I realized oh my god I have to wake up and write the next chapter! Any way here it is now.

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Doom

At first, she was only aware of the far away thudding… muffled by hazy curtains of drowned consciousness. Weak but steady, the thumping was somehow connected to her, but she could not find it. There was just the sea. Lapping sound against her ears, salt on her tongue, the smell of sea filling her congested nose, the cold, cold yet deceptively gentle rocking of the sea… and nothing but darkness overwhelming any sense of sight. It had taken her down into its depths. Into the warmth of its womb where some said humans had been born.

Then there was this weight on her chest. So, so heavy, it was crushing her, squeezing the breath out of her—which, she was surprised, she still felt in her consciousness. It was whispering something to her… like telling her to snap out, to go back and live. Odd notion. The pressure kept building up further until it was so unbearable, she wanted to scream. But all that came out was washed out gurgling that was probably the last bit of anything that had remained in her system. She coughed, a lost bout of air rushing back to her lungs.

When she gathered all her nerves to push against the heavy fatigued lids shrouding her sight in black, there was still nothing but darkness. Only a fleeting moment of haze when she thought she saw the Angel of Death frown at her. He whispered something.

Angel of Death.

Whispering.

"Oi, oi," she heard the voice again. Louder. Much louder. Almost as if he were shouting. "Pull it together, hey."

And with the voice, the uncomfortable jerking of her body held together only at the shoulders.

The voice.

The jerking.

The discomfort.

This time her eyes shot open and she jerked right up, her forehead bumped hard against something and there was a muffled groan. Unconsciously, her hands flew to the sides and clutched whatever she could hold onto. There was still the sea. Still the gentle, nauseating rocking. The lapping. The sickening churning in her stomach. There was the boat. And there was another presence.

"Holy fuc—" she paused as a seizure of coughs shook her, more water rushing out of her system. Pressing her hands to her temples, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light that seemed to be coming from the only source—the stars that were scant, yet enough to make sense of things—given a bit of time she needed to straighten out her riddled mind.

"Easy…" came the voice and she turned apprehensively to look him in the eye. The guy she'd thought to be the Angel of Death for a brief second. He now frowned at her with one hand pressed against his forehead as if something had bashed it. Belatedly, the pain shot through her forehead and she realized his head was what she'd bashed against in her jerk out of the deathlike trance.

She was alive. Belated realization. But oddly comforting for a fleeting moment.

"You okay?" the man looked at her with apparent concern. He lit a flame in one hand and she wondered in amazement how he could do that so easily. The face was familiar. Quite familiar, making her feel uneasy for some reason. Where had she seen him before? Her brains felt like jell-o. Stomach rumbling angrily. Hands hurting with clutching onto the boat so hard. She didn't trust herself to let go of it even if her hands got paralyzed. She didn't trust the sea which rocked them gently, yet had the potential to get violent the moment she relaxed her hold. She felt vulnerable.

"I…" she gulped, growing uneasy under his considerate stare. "I… I'm _alive_."

"That's a relief," he sighed, and she wondered if the comment was genuine or sarcastic. _Of course_ she was alive! "I almost regretted throwing you into the sea."

"Oh…" she was experiencing a very, very sloppy brain so slow on the uptake, she could have almost wanted to groan. "Wai—_you_ threw me into the sea? You absolute bonkers, I was drowning. What if I had died?"

"But you're alive," he grinned, as if it was no longer an issue. "You just testified to that. Besides, if you can't swim, you should say that sooner."

"Like I had time," she shot back, her head heating up as her brains finally shifted gears and picked up the pace. "Before I knew it, I was tossed out like a fish."

"Well, sorry about that," he grinned again. "Didn't have time to think. You were in mess that was probably created by me, I suppose."

"_You_," she shuddered violently and for once her arms wrapped around her soaked body. "You were the man at the bar. Who dozed off in the middle of that stupid scuffle with the scums."

"Ah, did I?" he looked rather surprised. "Oh you're all soaked and cold, aren't you? Here have this," he held out his long coat to her revealing a nicely built lightly tanned upper half of a body with perfectly defined muscles. She was quick to assess things like that. He wore loose black shorts underneath and black boots that complimented his overall good looking build. Thankful to the dark concealing a little blush rising to her cheeks, she snatched the coat from his hand and without a word, turned around, her back to him and started taking off her shirt. If the fool had an ounce of respect, he wouldn't need to be told to turn around and not peep. None of the men she'd come across so far in her life had that though. But she was fine with it. Not like she had anything none of them had already seen before. Besides telling them off only seemed to make them more devilishly curious.

To her surprise, however, when she'd stripped down and shrugged on the oversized coat, she turned around to find him standing nonchalantly with his back to her as if it was the least of his interest. She suppressed a little smile as she spread her wet clothes against the side of the boat and cleared her throat a little.

Her attention caught on his back, however, before he turned around, on an elaborate tattoo fashioned all over his back—purple crossbones and a skull with a white upturned moustache.

"You…" she gasped, the hazy memory of those back alley posters suddenly sharp and vivid. How she'd failed to recognize this all too famous face that had ruled the wanted posters and created quiet, nervous murmurs was almost incredibly stupid and laughable. "You're… Whitebeard Pirates… Hiken no Ace. Bounty five hundred million belli."

In response, he smirked a little and bent down in an almost gentlemanly fashion. "Five hundred and _fifty_ million belli."

"You're a pirate," her voice was almost breaking into shrieks now with panic underway. "Oh my god. You're a wanted pirate. You have a freakin' fortune to your head. This is crazy," the shrieks now gave way to a complete bout of hysterical hyperventilation as she backed away. "A pirate. This is insane. Why in the heavens am I stuck here in this wretched sea with a goddamned pirate. Heavens. What do you want from me, you scum, I have nothing of value—"

"Hey, hey," he moved swiftly to catch her by the arm as she all but tumbled back into the sea, trying to back off further and further to the edge of the boat which now rocked violently with its weight alignment disturbed. "Get a hold of yourself. I don't want anything from you. I just dutifully rescued you from a mess I started."

"Nobody needed your rescue," she glared at him, slapping away his hand and lowering herself into a sitting position as her dread of the rocking sea overpowered her hysteria and her hands flew to clutch at anything to hold her steady.

"You sure?" he sighed, shaking his head and sitting down in front of her, a little pity seeping into his gaze as the girl all but cowered at the sight of water. "Because you sure seemed like you needed help."

"Well, thanks a ton," she cried. Now that her assessment was complete and as her instincts rightly told her that although with a bounty as good as fortune, this man in front of her appeared rather harmless, anger overtook all her emotions and she convincingly put all blame for the messy situation on him. Anger was a good distraction.

"What is it you have against pirates?" he asked with an amused eyebrow raised.

"Don't get me started," she groaned, her face pinched as the boat rode another wave. Underlying the tone was a subtle aversion to say anything at all about pirates if she could help it. Inconsequential things of past that'd better lie buried where they were. However determined to not let another bout of hysterical madness overpower her lest she should throw herself at the mercy of the sea, she babbled on, convinced that it was the only thing that could distract her from the constant threat that whirled and churned under their little vessel. "Aside from all the goddamned scary things you pirates are, your love for the sea is so insane. I can't even begin to understand what it is that makes you crave for adventures in this scary shit when you could have content stable lives anywhere in the world. It's so shitty, so scary, this… this _sea_."

"Sea? It's not scary at all…" he tried for a little soothing smile. "Sea is freedom—"

"It's _shit_ scary. I feel so _sick_," as if to support her claim, her stomach growled in agreement as she clung ever harder to the boat, a new dizziness claiming her. "Gods. I need to get _away_ from here. I need to go back to my stable content little life."

"What you need right now, woman, is to get some food in there so your stomach would stop grumbling and embarrassing you—"

"I'm not embarrassed," she mumbled. "It's not food I need. It'll all come back right up. I'm just… so seasick. I'm pigshit scared of the sea, like, it literally kills my daylights out. And now you think I'm just talking godofted gibberish but I'm so senseless at my wits' end I'm all but going crazy."

"I can see that," he said, shaking his head a little at this sad little heap of a girl who just moments before on dry land had appeared as impressive a bar waitress as any he'd come across. Confident and tough with a presence of mind to take on three bandits, each twice her size. Apparently, though, her calculations had glitched somewhere. And now on the floor of the boat sitting so terrified was this girl with features almost too childlike. Without the impressive threats and twisted expressions she put up, she almost believably looked like a kid lost and separated from her parents on a sea voyage. Her physique, however was considerably womanly rather than girlish as he'd discerned from the brief glance he'd unintentionally been subjected to when she'd started changing out of her wet clothes without a warning or instruction to turn around. Short of stature, gray eyes wide and stormy with fear, a small mouth which gave an impish impression and a little runny nose made her a coinciding figure of a child and a woman altogether confusing him how to address her. Pity would've almost seeped into his gaze had it not been for the quiet dignity she held together even though looking rather tiny and lost in that oversized coat he'd given her. Courtesy of those glares and threats he'd seen her issue so undauntedly, he knew if he even tried to baby-talk her, she'd bite off his fingers before killing him off with death glares—better, death threats.

As he stood in front of her now sobbing form, she suddenly flung out and grabbed his hand pleading like a peasant to the lord: "Get us back to my village, Firefist, please, just somehow get me back there and I'll pay you back in whatever kind you'd like—"

"Okay, just calm down for a sec," he said, raising the one free hand she wasn't clutching so he could show her the log pose whose needle kept rotating without settling in any one direction. At this point, it was clearly no option to soothe her with calming words for her doomed expression was rather justified.

"It's… it's broken?" she breathed.

"Maybe," he said tipping back his hat and scratching his mass of wavy black hair now revealed and shining more fully. "Or maybe it just didn't set."

"That's… a disaster. I don't know a thing about log poses," she withdrew her hands and pulled them down over her ears, rocking back and forth against the boats natural rhythm. For a moment she glanced up with a wild look in her eyes that swept the boat searchingly end-to-end. "I don't know first thing about boats but… where are the oars supposed to be?"

"Now, here's the thing…" he squatted down in front of her, trying to phrase out the situation in a way that wouldn't shock her half to death which seemed more probable considering her fragile form that shook as she clearly tried to choke back sobs. The oars had gotten knocked away from the boat in the little scuffle and by the time he'd gotten rid of the bandits—which was fairly quick—he'd realized the woman was drowning and had to haul her out. By that time, the oars had floated far enough out of reach thanks to the huge splashes the bandits made as they hit the sea. And the time it took to revive her, getting all that water out, pressing, shaking yelling at her to hang on, he all but lost track of directions. He tried to make it sound more convincing but her disbelieving look told him she was considering it all but a heap of excuses.

"Why can't _you_ swim?" she eyed him with sourness. "And you call yourself a pirate…"

To answer her, he merely held up his palm and produced a tiny flickering flame.

"Akuma no mi," she whispered to herself, pulling her hands over her ears and closing her eyes shut tight, suddenly aware of the impending doom. "We're lost at sea. And neither of us can swim."

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A/N: I'm working on the next chapter already!

So I realized from Fanfiction, I'd actually started enjoying working on original stuff more. Maybe because it provides you that space to color it the way you like (in my case, the coloring is insane. Always.) So yeah, I would've totally published it on ficpress like normal people do but my imagination of the pirate kept ricocheting back to Ace every time I thought about him. (Maybe because I love Ace a little too much. There is no other pirate like him. Sensitive _and_ sensible and yet those qualities don't deter that fun-loving pirate in him.)

Anyway, enough with my babble. But while I'm at it, I'd like to thank the wonderful people who took out their time to review the first chapter. That really motivated me! Thanks also for the favorites and follows. I'll keep trying hard to make this fanfic worthy of your likes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Oda Eiichiro.**

**A/N**: Waaa it's been, like, a month since I updated. Gomen gomen hontou ni gomen! I've just been in so much of mess. Dealing with death of close ones is hard. Besides, I've been so far out of my comfort zone. I miss home. Anyway, to make up for the sluggish updates, this chapter is fairly long. Read on!

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Drifting

Night gave way to dawn as she continued to stare at the faraway hazy horizon. Daybreak might be able to give her some relief. Relief… seemed like a far off feeling. Sprawled across from her, Ace snored softly, his expression telling of a sound, dreamy sleep. He mumbled something unintelligible and tossed impatiently, giving her a start as the boat rocked. As she stared at his peaceful, oblivious face, she found herself wondering what kind of a dream it could be. Slowly, cautiously, she crawled to his side and peered at his face closely. She envied the freckles he had on his cheeks and nose. Since childhood she had had a rather pale color to her cheeks that made her look sickly at times and had always imagined having healthy freckles accentuating her plain skin.

"My meat—" he yelled suddenly, grabbing her hand and sitting bolt upright as if something compelling had jerked him out of his blissful dream. She yelped and landed hard on her butt trying to back off. For a second, he looked like he was about to bite off her hand. Whatever dream he'd been having about meat, she suddenly felt inimical.

"Ehh? Ah… gomen gomen," he grinned sheepishly releasing her hand.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," she grumbled. "What kind of a dream was it anyway…"

"Hahaha it was a feast… or something like that," he said. "Man, I'm so hungry right now I could almost eat anything."

She looked at him quizzically as if hunger was so irrational a thing that it had never occurred to her. Her stomach growled rather audibly again and he smirked a little as if to say 'told you.'

"I thought I had something in my little backpack—" she started to reach behind her back and then stopped short. The backpack in question was something she'd carried around with her everywhere she went. It was so inseparable that it had almost become a part of her dress code. But of course it must still be waiting for her behind the counter at the bar. She groaned. "Oh God. My precious, precious backpack."

Again she started to ball herself up on the floor as a preemptive measure for the grief and frustration that was flooding back.

"Backpack… You mean this?" he raised a rather old-looking beat up backpack and then without a word started rifling through its contents like it was his own.

"Where—how did you get that?" she stumbled over to him. "And hey, don't go groping around other people's personal belongings. Give that back to me—"

"Ah, this will do," he pulled out an apple and almost stuffed it into his mouth. "And… I'll take this too."

"Give that back—" she said, finally grabbing the bag from him and hugging it to herself after he'd taken a loaf of bread from it. "How'd you get this?"

"Hmm?" he looked at her, attention averted from the food. "Ah… the bar owner—that scary ossan… well he kind of dumped this on my table and glared at me, telling me to quit dozing and get his girl back. The glare really sent a shiver down my spine though. He said this was very important to you and you'd be upset otherwise so I grabbed it and dashed out. He even threw a spatula at me, see, I have a little bump on my head."

"Samuel… he's scary alright," she said, almost grinning. The backpack had evidently eased her nerves a bit. Slipping a hand inside the bag, she drew out a little black diary from it. On the cover was engraved the name Garcia A. Xanthippe. He looked over at it, chewing his bread hungrily.

"Xanthippe, huh?" he said. "That your name? Strange…"

"Nobody calls me that," she snapped. She'd always been sensitive about the weirdness of her name. Her mother had been too much of a spontaneous person. "They call me Xena."

"Well then, Xena-chan—"

"Drop the 'chan'," she said. Because _everyone_ called her that, it reminded her of her village and made her yearning more desperate.

"Eh? But it sounds cute…" he said. "Xe~na~chan."

As if to undermine all of that, her stomach growled again. Very audibly. She finally pulled out some bread and started chewing on it, unconcerned by the fact that sooner or later she'd throw up all of it anyway. So long as she was stuck in the sea, starving and drowning were equally nasty options of death.

They finished the last bits of food in silence. Now that her stomach was satisfied, she felt just a little better although the churning still made her queasy. She decided keeping herself distracted was a good option but she looked up only to find him dozing off like he'd never been more at home. She thought how wonderful it was for those who felt so at ease in the sea. She'd almost drowned in it when she was five and her mother had tried to teach her how to swim. She'd noticed it almost a little too late. That childhood trauma had left her almost phobic of sea, much to the disappointment of her mother. For her father…

She let the thought trail off there. Bringing up things of that sort wasn't about to help them get away from this mess.

The sun was now a glowing disc of orange just over the horizon. It was distinctly signaling an unbearably hot day as it continued its journey up and up in the sky. She twisted her hair up in a knot, wincing as her fingers caught in the impossible coarse tangles. The salt, the wind had all made it a complete frizzy mess on her head and as if that wasn't bad enough, the dye was fading off, leaving streaks of red in the midst of dark brown. With a watchful eye on him, she slowly slipped out of the coat and put her clothes back on which were however uncomfortably stiff thanks to the sea water but at least a little bit cooler.

Her sight, inevitably settled on the horizon again. The sea. In all directions. It just stretched on and on and on till it mingled with the azure sky and they couldn't be told apart from each other. A blend appearing to be so in harmony yet so different and far apart.

_It isn't fair_. She found herself thinking as her muscles relaxed. She was starting to get used to the rocking however her hand still clutched the boat edge to the point of being numb. And soon the heat, the discomfort of the sea… it was all starting to fade into fuzzy feelings that weren't all that hostile.

She was back in the village. Four years old again. Holding hands with her mother, walking along the sandy beaches. Her mother going on and on about how lovely the sea was and how she'd love for the both of them to go on their own little adventure. _Demo demo, Xena_, she was saying, _you'd have to learn how to swim before that_. And she was just nodding enthusiastically, her eyes shiny with fantasies of an adventure to some far, far off magical place. The enthusiasm of that day… how it had faded from memory over the years, she did not know. But there, wadding into the shallow waters off the shore, the little Xena wasn't even slightly terrified of the sea.

Far away, a ship sailing by hooted.

With a start, she sat up, blinking her eyes in shock and surprise. Ace sat opposite to her apparently just aroused from his slumber and staring at her as if she'd just returned from the dead.

"You…" he said. "You looked so still and peaceful, I thought you'd passed onto the other world."

"Don't be stupid," she said, blushing slightly. "I wasn't dead… just dead tired."

Another hoot sounded over there little spat and her eyes darted towards the horizon. She wasn't dreaming. Far, far away, leaving a hazy trail of smoke, a ship was sailing off.

"Hey," she shouted in desperation. Obviously there was no way the sound would reach the huge vessel. She waved like crazy. Then shouted again, aware of her useless, crazy endeavors.

"Firefist," she glanced at him shortly then continued staring and waving, as if it would disappear the moment she took her eyes off it. "Start a fire. They'll notice."

"Xena-chan," he shook his head. "It's broad daylight. They won't see the fire. We need something that'd produce smoke."

"Then set the boat on fire, maybe," she said.

"Are you crazy?"

"I am! There's no other way."

"You _do_ know neither of us can swim…?"

"We could be rescued by then…"

"_Could_."

She turned to face him this time, her eyes clear brown pools. Activity was giving her some sense of being. Her desperation was far livelier than her hopelessness a while back. Something clicked inside his head. The idea wasn't a genius one but worth a try.

"I could try throwing a column of fire," he said. "It might not travel very far away considering it's all water around here. But it might just be enough to catch attention…"

He looked at her in confusion. Her eyes were so fixated on the ship that she didn't move, didn't respond. She mightn't have even heard him. Or maybe she was already unsure of the idea.

"Hey," he said, tapping her shoulder. "Xena-chan?"

"It's…" she finally said in a low voice, looking at him, a little bit of the old sadness seeping back in her darkening eyes. "It's a marine ship, Firefist."

"So what?" he said, unconcerned.

"So what?" she raised her voice just a little. "So they're going to arrest you. You're a pirate."

"Seriously are you worrying about that right now?" he said, grinning like it was no issue at all. "I can always find ways to escape. And they'll have _food _and sake on the ship. And they'll take you back home. What's more, you might even get the bounty on my head."

"Stop joking, Firefist," she yelled. His ideas were crazy, yes. One, she did not trust marines one bit. Not after they'd literally plundered her village a year back. Two, even if she detested this idiot of a pirate, he'd saved her life and had been with her through this mess, equally aware—if not more—of the dangers they might lose their lives to. He was a sort of companion. She grudgingly admitted the fact. Even if he was so confident that he'd escape, she wasn't just about to sell him off for an insane bounty just because she could. Her book did not permit that however selfish she could get. Crossing her arms in front of her in determination, she sat down with a thump, letting the boat rock enough for him to lose balance and hastily sit back down.

"Look, this might be an only chance," he said, a little concerned. "You don't have much food. And you might even get caught up in a storm. Who knows how weird the weather here at Grand Line is."

"Don't talk like I'm the only one who's gonna be in that mess," she said grumpily. "You're also in the same position."

"Yeah well, I'll live," he said with a shrug.

"Firefist," she said, shaking her head. "Are you just dumb or you don't really care?"

"I believe," he said. "I'm not ready to die just yet."

"Neither am I," she said, almost too quietly. "If I die before you get me back to my village, I'll make sure I turn into a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your life."

"Sure," he laughed. "Though it's hard to see how you could _haunt_ anyone."

"Shut up," she grumbled halfheartedly. "Promise me."

"It's a promise then," he said earnestly.

She held out her little finger and he stared at it quizzically.

"What?" he asked.

"That's…" she looked away, making a childish pout face, a little embarrassed. "That's how you make a promise. We shake our pinky fingers."

"I see," he said, laughing out loud as they shook on it.

The ship was now just a dot on the faraway horizon. Even if she changed her mind now, it would be no use. Seeing it disappear was making her heart sink every second. She covered her ears with her hands again and balled up in her corner. It wasn't like she was going to bawl again like she'd been doing all this time. She was getting just a little comfortable. The idea only terrified her further for some reason.

"You'll get awful cramps if you stay like that all the time," he commented. "Don't you feel uneasy?"

"I don't really care," she mumbled. "This way is just a little comforting. I don't have to look at the sea and the churning and rocking affects me less."

"The sea doesn't really make you as sick as it makes you hysterical," he noted, squatting down next to where she lay balled up like a kitten. "What is it about sea that frightens you so much?"

"Everything," she muttered without looking up.

"You're not really scared of the sea," he said. "You just _think_ you are."

"It's one and the same thing."

"No, it's not," he said. "Come on, I'll show you. Stand up."

"No, no it's crazy. I might tip over and fall," she shook her head though following his gesture, she stretched out of the fetal position and took the hand he offered.

"You won't. And if you do, I'll save you like earlier," he said, standing up and pulling at her but she stayed put in her spot. "Xena-chan, just for one moment, imagine this boat isn't a boat at all. Say if it _is_ a boat, it's on dry land. Now close your eyes and just stand up. You can hold onto me if you can't balance."

"I totally can," she said and as if just to prove that she could, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and hauled herself up, however drawing a little assurance from the warmth of his hand around hers.

"Good," he said. "Now just step here."

He tugged at her, then turned her around, then prodded her forward a little and then hooked his arm around hers from behind and stopped her from taking another step forward. She found that keeping her legs a bit apart provided the ideal position for balancing and the balls and heels of her feet could very easily absorb any shocks the rocking caused while she stood upright. It was an easy trick. Never before had she been so aware of her body and how it was so perfectly designed for balance. All her clumsiness forgotten, she unclenched her fists and stretched one hand in front of her, fingers reaching out, feeling the spray and the wind.

She was four again. Standing at the shore, letting the smell of the sea, the feel of the salty wind against her cheeks wash away all her sorrows. She'd done it so often back then. How could she have forgotten how good it felt. How it eased out her anxieties at the time (which now appeared to be such trivial childish insecurities). It was a moment of exhilaration she hadn't felt for ages.

It was hard keeping her eyes shut any further. As her eyelids fluttered open, she found herself standing at the edge of the boat. Ace was leaning back to maintain the equilibrium just enough. The sea was lapping inches away from her feet. In a panic, she stepped back, tripping over his foot and falling as the boat shook violently. She landed with a thud which was surprisingly softer compared to how she was anticipating.

"Ow," he groaned. "You're heavy."

"Shut up," she said, turning her head to see she was almost sitting on top of him. That must've hurt. "I'm not fat."

"Not fat," he nodded as she rolled off of him. "But heavy."

"Gee, thanks a bunch," she growled, sarcasm laced in her voice.

"Quite the sour one, aren't you?" he grinned.

"You can't blame me," she scowled in response. The next second, she was shaking with laughter. She didn't know if it was the shock after the panic or just the relief of being alive or the way he grinned at her childish responses. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was laugh till her stomach couldn't take it anymore.

"That was crazy, Firefist," she said after a while. "Were you planning to throw me off board?"

"I couldn't have," he said, earnestly. "You would've come back to haunt me."

"Right," she laughed again. Drifting like this was still scary. But for the moment, she just wanted to laugh it off if that were going to be her last.

* * *

**A/N**: A little rushed out it seems -.- gomen'nasai. I'm definitely, definitely posting the next chapter sooner this time. It's a promise. Next chapter gets a bit of action *thumbs up* *fake smile*

And let me just thank _AnimeFreakzoid911, BeanieBaby96, Bob the Delicious Cupcake, Cheerfullion95, Ghostunderasheet, Rukia5783, SNicole25, WarriorsSoul7, Aennlou, Hazel Nightshadow, Lilliee-chan_ and_ wolfscry248_ for adding this story to their favorites/alerts. It makes me really happy.

Thank you for the motivation.

Please leave a review so I can keep up the progress.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: One Piece © Oda Eiichiro**

**A/N:** So well, yay this _is _a faster update. I split the chapter in two since it was turning out to be way longer than I'd imagined. It's strange how instead of my thoughts taking shape in words, it's the words that shape the ideas in my head. I wonder if that happens with other people too… or maybe I'm just weird. Anyway, I'll cut the chatter now.

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Land

When the boat ran aground, her first thought was that it must have been another one of the nightmares. Like it could get any worse! They'd spent two nights and close to two whole days drifting clueless and she'd been sure they were going to die of starvation or (in her case) be roasted alive by the scorching sun. Him being fire, heat didn't affect him. She'd been sighing jealously all afternoon. The tiredness had been a boon at least so far that she was too worn out to care about the sea and dozed off frequently. Last she'd shut her eyes, she was sure she was passing out with hunger.

Until the violent crash had jerked her out of slumber. She looked around, making sure she still belonged in the world. The boat had run into an outcrop of vicious jagged rocks off the coast of some mainland. A few boards had come undone. Her eyes darted to where her oblivious companion lay on the boards that were sinking fast. He wasn't hurt. She wondered if he'd fainted due to starvation but soon as his legs sunk into water, he bolted up, tumbling off the board in surprise and landing with a splash, flailing his arms instinctively before he realized the water wasn't deep enough to drown either of them. She laughed at his funny reaction as he scratched his head. The grin spread so wide, he thought it was never gonna come off her face.

"Finally," she spread her arms on either side and laughed a little as a stupid tear she hadn't been intending to let escape fell across her cheek. "Thank _God_. I thought I was dead."

He grinned back at her and in sync, their stomachs growled together.

"First, I need food," she announced, then as if an offhanded afterthought added, "_we_ need food. A _lot_ of food."

"Yeah," he nodded.

They wadded through the shallow waters, stumbling over rocks that apparently weren't even there. A bit farther on the right side was a small but seemingly busy harbor. Towards their back, a little in the left side, the sun was rapidly sinking, signaling the end of the day and beginning of troubles… quite a few of them.

"Wait," she stopped abruptly, turning around as he almost stumbled over her. "You can't walk around the town like that."

"Like what?" he asked, clueless.

"Half naked… with that bigass tattoo on your back," she pointed. "And that hat is way too flashy."

"I like flashy," he shrugged, grinning as he put one hand over his hat protectively. "And I don't think anybody would mind me roaming around 'half naked'… it's awfully hot anyway."

"_I_ mind, Firefist," she shook her head in a this-will-not-do manner. "I want to get through this with as little trouble as possible and trust me, the way you are right now,"—here she looked him up and down with a disapproving frown—"you'd attract all the unwanted attention."

"Hai, hai," he said, taking off the hat and stuffing it into her backpack. "Do I have to put on the coat?"

"No, it's too hot," she said, scanning the surroundings. "The coat will look too absurd to not be noticed."

"Then you're going to have to make your suggestions quick," he said. "Because I'm _starving. We _are starving."

"Ah, I got it," she grinned, her eyes set upon a little residential area a little farther. "Come on."

"Eh?" he followed her as she started to jog noiselessly.

With a purpose set on her mind, she seemed to have regained her vicious confidence back. There was an odd glint in her eyes.

"Just wait here for a minute," she told him as they reached the outskirts of the town. She slipped through the gate of a tiny house and crept up to a line of drying clothes. With a swift glance on either side, she snatched a shirt off the line and started tiptoeing back. He watched her with an amused expression.

"Chotto—" a woman called from behind and she froze in her tracks. "Where do you think you're going with that shirt, you little thief?"

"Firefist," Xena yelled, making a sprint to the gate. "Run."

They sprinted through the narrowest, darkest alleys as the woman and mostly the objects she threw at them as they sped ahead—a spatula that almost caught her at the back, a screwdriver she barely managed to dodge and a tin can that he skillfully caught before it hit him in the head. More people started to chase them as the lady shouted angrily, even though they were clueless what they were running after.

Stumbling, dodging, shoving their way through crowds, they finally slipped into an alleyway and gasped for breath as they made sure there were no more pursuers.

"Get through this with as little trouble as possible?" he laughed as she gasped for air.

"Well," she grinned. "That was the plan."

"That was crazy," he grinned back. "I don't even like shirts."

"You put this on, Firefist," she shoved the shirt in his hands. "I even stole a bandanna and a pair of glasses on the way."

"You're unbelievable," he exclaimed as he surveyed the items of disguise she held up.

"What with shoving our way through all that crowd…" she said. "Nobody even noticed."

"Cat," he remarked, trying the shirt on though he did not button it up.

"I'm sure it was not a compliment so I'm going to just ignore that." she said, looking at his little disguise in approval.

"How weird do I look?" he asked finally, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"No more weird than you looked half naked with that cowboy hat," she said with a solemn shake of head.

"You have no sense of style, Xena-chan," he teased.

"Oh yes. When it comes to style, I'm downright illiterate," she said offhandedly. "Now come on I need food."

"Roger," he said.

"Wait. Maybe we were just too occupied to notice this but…" she said with a crestfallen look on face. "We have no money."

"Ah now that you mention it…" he laughed. "Don't worry. I have an idea."

They trudged to the marketplace and ducked into the nearest restaurant they could find. She fidgeted nervously, following him two steps back. Dine and dash was not the most brilliant of ideas in her books. Especially being a waitress, she'd had that kind of trouble with notorious customers every once in a while. But now that they did not have a better option, she decided it was better to put all that experience to use and eat up all the free food she could gobble.

When he nonchalantly ordered the waiter there to keep bringing all the food they had until he told them to stop, she didn't even bat an eyelash at the horrified man. Her mouth was already watering at the smell of all the meat cooking. When the food arrived, they tore into it like they'd been this hungry for ages. For once, she stopped caring about everything except the food. He watched her gobble up one plate after another like a glutton. Contrary to how she actually looked so puny, she sure could eat a lot. It sort of reminded him of Luffy. She could give him a tough competition when it came to food… maybe even at being cute, though it was clear Luffy would be bound to win _that_ one!

When she'd eaten so much that her stomach felt like it was about to explode, she leaned back in the chair and groaned.

"Man, I think I just ate enough to last me a week," she said.

"Haha," he burped, leaning in his chair too. "Think you can make a run for it now?"

"You bet," she said with a huge grin on her face. Bits and crumbs of food still stuck around her mouth.

With a countdown of three, they sprinted to the door. The enraged chef and waiters chased them yelling angrily. Cluelessly, they ducked into alleys, ran through streets, changing directions desperately but it just seemed to be leading them in a circle back in front of the angry pursuers. After running into them more times than they could keep track of, he finally threw a firefist at them, just enough to get rid of them though hopefully, no injuries were sustained. After running another three streets down, they ducked into a shady looking alley finally sure of escape from the pursuers and sat there, gasping and laughing.

"Your direction sense is rotten, Xena-chan," he said. She, being the faster of the two, had been leading them into the seemingly endless maze.

"At least I was fast, Firefist," she retorted. "You were running like a sissy."

"Was _not_," he said. "And I saved the both of us."

"And exposed yourself," she raised her eyebrows. "After I went through all the trouble to steal disguise items for you."

"Just a small incident," he shrugged. "Nobody will notice."

"I sure hope so," she said. "Remember, get-through-this-with-as-little-trouble-as-possible is the mantra.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled and she blushed slightly. Seeing as it were, she'd created more trouble than she could remember racking up in a day. That was the thing about her obsession with stability. There never had been room for trouble. And now, in the unthinkable, all of the most unpredictable things were happening… and _she_ was the active agent in all of them. It made her uneasy to even consider all the fun she was having with this pirate. That set off some alarm bells inside her head. With a little sigh, she stood up and looked around.

"Firefist," she said. "I think we should go check out the harbor… see if there's a ferry back to my island. Or anywhere close."

"Sure," he said. "You go ahead and check. By the time, I'll take a little nap."

"What?" she said, a little shocked. "In the middle of the street?"

But he had already drifted off to the dream world to answer her or care about the place. It still puzzled her how someone could fall asleep so instantaneously. One second, he'd be talking and the next second, she'd turn around to find him asleep.

"You just trying to trick me, eh?" she muttered, kneeling down to get a good look at his face. "If you ditch me, Firefist, I'll make sure I find you and torture you to a slow death."

She paused to think of more threats she could deliver but his soft snoring and oblivious expression made it rather obvious that the last one had had no effect on him whatsoever. He really was asleep. And it amazed her. With a little smile on her face, she stood up again and started off to the harbor. It would be a pain, considering she had no clue of where they were and a bad direction sense.

When he was shaken out of his sleep, for a moment he just stared at the familiar face groggily before her voice brought him back to the present. First the gray eyes that weren't stormy anymore. The impish little mouth pursed into a line. A little frown creasing her forehead.

"Firfist—"

"Xena-chan?" he yawned wide and then sat up straight against the wall he'd been slumped beside. "What's up?"

"Don't 'what's up' me, Firefist," she said. "You've been out for more than three hours. I lost my way so many times I was beginning to think I'd never find you."

With a sigh, she slumped next to him.

"Ah… I was so sleepy I completely forgot how bad you are with directions," he chuckled.

"Shut up," she mumbled.

"Haha gomen gomen," he said. "I should've come with you."

"At least you didn't ditch me," she said, half to herself.

"I wouldn't," he said earnestly. "We made a promise, right?"

She looked at him oddly and then sighed again.

"Anyway I checked out the harbor. Seems like we're in some trade hub. There's a lot of merchant ferries sailing from here but nobody really seems to know my island. Though there is a ferry that can take us to Garuna island in two days. It'll set sail in the morning. Garuna island is a little off the way but from there, I'm confident we'll find a ship that could take us back to my island. In all, it might take up to five days. The problem is, we don't have money to either pay for the ferry or secure our food supply for a week."

"Well then," he said. "We just need to find a way to make some quick buck."

"And however are we gonna do that…" she said thoughtfully. Her eyes, that had been trained on the opposite wall, for once_ saw _exactly what she'd just been looking at all the while. "Or wait… I have an idea."

He looked at her quizzically as she grinned, still staring at the wanted posters on the wall. There was an amused glint in her eyes. Whatever she was up to… it clearly wasn't about adhering to the get-through-this-with-as-little-trouble-as-possible mantra of hers. That threatening overconfidence that she got on dry land was definitely asking for some trouble.

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter will be up within the week, hopefully. I'd like to thank _SNicole25, Aennlou_ and_ M0M3NTAI_ for the encouraging reviews. Thanks also to _M0M3NTAI, bookworm235_, _MadnessIsAMust_ and _RahzelKane_ for following/favoriting the story.

I'll keep trying my best.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave a review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.**

**A/N:** Not gonna say much except WHOA I said I was gonna update within the week and I really did it! *pats own back* good job good job~

* * *

Bounty

"Are you sure about doing this, Xena-chan?" he asked, surveying the busy marketplace.

"Come on, Firefist," she rolled her eyes. "I've been working at a bar since I was fourteen. And dealing with this kind of stuff ever since. Except I didn't half care about the bounty. But this time we need that money. And I can handle this."

"If you say so," he shrugged, finally spotting a rowdy enough bar ideal for the execution of his crazy companion's crazy idea. She walked in front of him, all business like. As they neared the bar, she abruptly turned around to face him.

"Remember," she said. "Stay in a corner. Don't raise suspicion. Don't drink too much. And _don't_ doze off."

"Roger," he said, faking a salute.

"And keep an eye out," she said. "We're looking for the lowest bounty possible so it doesn't create too much trouble."

At this point, he figured, it wasn't going to be any use pointing out to her that her definition of trouble wasn't probably very accurate. Bounty hunting wasn't exactly the most brilliant of ideas. Definitely not trouble-free.

"Whoa—" he widened his eyes as she undid the top two buttons of her shirt.

She just rolled her eyes in response and looked him over to make sure he wasn't _very_ recognizable. A woman here and there definitely did eye him up and down. With that unbuttoned shirt and bandanna… well, he didn't look half bad. He couldn't help but attract attention… albeit, of a different kind. She grinned to herself a little.

"Hey—is that a dagger?" she looked at his belt and snatched up the sheath without warning.

"Ah give that back, Xena-chan," he shook his head, holding out his hand.

"I will," she said, ignoring his gesture and strapping the knife against her thigh. "In a while. Just let me keep it for now."

He shook his head a little exasperated but ceded as he watched her let her hair down, running her fingers through and patting it down to straighten the tangles.

"What?" she muttered a little self-consciously as he stared at her.

"Your hair…" he said, grabbing a lock of hair without warning. "It's red."

"Yeah, well everything about me is weird, Firefist," she snapped, jerking her head away. The brown color was fading off fast and she was starting to worry about it now that other basic worries had been taken care of.

He just looked at her with an amused expression as she turned away with a swish and started walking to the bar again. Sure, everything about the woman was weird. But in a good way. That was his impression. He was beginning to wonder why she felt so regretfully conscious about those weird-in-a-good-way things about her.

"Xena-chan…" he called as she was about to step into the bar. "You look good."

She smirked a little, raising her hands palms-up and shaking her head solemnly.

"It's called sex appeal, Firefist." And with that, she was gone.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He'd only meant to tell her the 'weird' didn't necessarily mean 'bad'. She had other ideas. That woman. So weird. With that he walked into the bar, taking a corner seat and ordering sake nonchalantly. With the corner of his eye, he saw her leaning over the counter, smiling all sweet and innocent, apparently chatting up the owner who seemed to be looking down at her half unbuttoned shirt more often than her face.

"I was not really looking to hire," he said with a shrug. "But I can use some help."

"A~ri~ga~tou~" she said, beaming.

Ace watched her switch back into her waitress mode as he gulped down his third mug of sake. He'd only seen her do this once before when he'd stumbled onto her island on the way. Now he actually _looked_ at her. At how awfully fake but _good_ she was at this. None of those shady men eyeing her would guess how many profanities she'd be yelling at them behind that inconspicuously innocent smile. He glanced briefly at three other waitresses hovering about. Comparing the way _they_ were going about, this crazy companion of his was so, _so_ clearly asking for trouble. She didn't really need to have unbuttoned halfway down. They'd all stare anyway. And with the dagger she'd snatched from him strapped just below her shorts, it was giving her looks that deliberate edge… sex appeal, she'd said? With a grin, he gulped down his sake, ignoring the waitress who'd so nicely served him, smiles and all. He watched her come up to him with another tray and refill him.

"Firefist," she whispered, all smiles, like she'd been with all the other customers. "I'm going to kill you if you drink any more than this. Ne?"

He chuckled a little as she bowed slightly, smiled even more sweetly and then left with a swish. He wasn't asking for trouble, nope.

She'd zeroed down on the lowest bounty she could find. A grubby looking pirate wannabe with a few million belli for a bounty. He was _definitely_ getting lured. With all the deliberate glances and smiles she threw his way. And the hovering and lingering. He even saw her laugh at one of his jokes like nothing could've been more hilarious.

With a satisfied little smirk, she returned to the counter and announced she was taking a break. Then threw a quick glance at Ace and walked away to a side door leading into a little deserted street.

She took deep breaths, waiting for the grubby little pirate wannabe scum to follow. The door creaked slightly and he stumbled out, drunk and clueless. She smiled at him, stepping back a bit, trying to keep the distance so she wouldn't have to stand the smell of booze all over him. He smiled at her—showing a nice gap between his teeth—maybe somebody'd punched him silly. She backed off further, her eyes darting to the door, waiting for her lazy companion to come handle the rest of the plan. Her smile melted away as the grimy faced drunken ass closed the gap between them, still leering at her as he licked his lips.

_Okay, firefist,_ she thought, panicking a little, _now would be a good time to make your flashy entry_.

But there was no sign of him. Her eyes were now fixed onto the door, not paying any more attention to the disgusting drunk pirate. She relaxed her clenched fists and took a deep breath. She might have to handle this alone. Her hand brushed against something wooden and she realized what she'd forgotten in her panicky. Okay, then she _could_ handle this.

She smiled at the stupid pirate towering over her, drunk, disgruntled and definitely clueless about her intentions. Her hand wrapped around the handle of the dagger she'd borrowed. The next second, a lot of things happened at once.

The pirate closed in on her and she swung her dagger in one swift, sharp arc, making a cut across his front while at the same time, the door swung open and her long awaited companion finally stepped out, jumping back a little as the pirate collapsed near his feet.

"Xena-chan…" he stared, mouth still agape. "You killed him?"  
"I'm not crazy, Firefist," she grimaced. "It's not a fatal wound. Guess he just fainted from the shock and the booze in his system. And _where_ the hell were _you_? I thought we agreed on you taking care of things once we were outside."

"Ah… well, the owner almost caught me slipping away without paying up…" he scratched his head, grinning a little. "I'm sorry."

"This ass was about to glomp me," she said. "Anyway. Thanks to your dagger. Here you go."

"Ah don't bother. You can keep it for now," he said. "Then what do we do with this guy now?"

"Deliver him to the marine base three streets down," she said buttoning up her shirt, relieved to be over with her task. "And collect our bounty. You haul him up. Take care of the remaining business."

"You're so bossy, Xena-chan," he complained.

"Damn right I am, Firefist," she smirked, surveying the man once over and then bending down to pull a gun from his belt. Ace raised his eyebrows in amusement and she fidgeted "What? I'm just borrowing it. Might just need one."

He laughed, amused at her habit of "just borrowing" weapons.

"Now come on," she said.

They dragged the unconscious man down to the marine base and dropped him in a heap at their door. Xena walked up to the captain as Ace stayed back, lingering in the corner, all inconspicuous.

"More bounty hunters in town?" the captain raised an eyebrow at the two of them after getting a good look at their catch. "Their numbers just keep growing."

"Well," Xena shrugged. "You should just be grateful."

"And why should we be?" the captain slumped back in his chair, not one bit interested. "Your kind create enough nuisance as it is. How about I put you and your partner in the prison with this guy?"

"If you can find a valid reason," Xena said, just as nonchalantly. "Until you do, I'd rather you give us our bounty and we might just hang around the town and wait for you to arrest us."

"You're an awfully cocky brat," the marine said, staring at her from under his cap.

"I've heard that before, thank you," she rolled her eyes. "Now how about the bounty."

For a moment, there was a deadlock as they both glared at each other coldly.

"Sure," he said, finally, a little too slow, his eyes lingering a moment too long at Ace. "Just identify yourselves. Both you and your partner. Sign here and you can have it."

"I'm sorry I've never heard that rule before," her voice about caught a hint of panic. She took a deep breath and then said calmly, "who we are doesn't matter to you. You got your prisoner, let us have our reward and we'll be on our way."

"I make the rules for my base, girl," the captain said, standing up slowly, definitely catching on the hint of nervousness in the glances she was throwing back at her partner. He gestured at his subordinates and suddenly there was a lot of noise and moving about.

"That's it," Xena said, glaring at the captain though she was now in a state of panic inside. "We're leaving. Keep your bounty, captain miser. Good day to you."

"Not so fast, kid," the captain said icily. "You sure you just want this measly bounty and not the five hundred and fifty million belli you're walking away with?"

"Wh-what…" she froze, hearing the clear click of guns being loaded behind them.

"So…" he smirked as her confident look melted away with the sweat drops down her face."… the rumors about the infamous Hiken no Ace being in town weren't all just fluke."

She heard an audible 'uh-oh' which was probably her own unconscious reaction. Before she could work her senses into calculating her next step, she was being dragged out by the back of her collar, something light shoved over her head, obscuring half her view.

"Your hat," she gasped as her senses finally caught on and they hit the street running full speed. She clamped down the flashy orange cowboy hat back on her head with one hand as he blew fire just over the top to slow down the marines now intent on pursuing them.

"Keep it on for now," Ace said, letting go of her collar as she matched up his strides and sprinted further ahead.

She ran straight ahead blindly, not registering the fact that marines were blocking the end of the street. But before she could run into them, he grabbed the back of her collar again, hauling her up the bannisters of a staircase off on one side and pushing her up the roof of a shack before throwing another fist of fire back at the marines and climbing up himself.

"Let go of my collar, Firefist," she yelled as they ran clumsily over the rooftops.

"No can do," he yelled back. "It's not just your direction sense that's rotten. You have no clue about evasion. You almost just ran into those marines a moment back."

"Well forgive me if I'm too nervous to think straight," she glared at him. "I've never really been chased by such an angry intent mob before."

"Then how about you just try and trust me for once," he snapped, pushing her down as a bullet whizzed just past her ear.

"That's a long shot," she huffed, trying to maintain her balance as he swerved this way and that, knocking her off her feet every time. "But I'll try just this once."

"Good," he said, taking a sudden left before he grabbed her and tossed her to a rooftop across the street.

She hardly even had time to yelp as she flew over the wide street two storeys high, landing in a crouch instinctively. But her knees and hands got badly scratched. If she had time or sense to think, sure enough she'd have been sobbing by the time he landed next to her.

"That was a wide, _wide_ gap," she said. "I couldn't have covered that in one leap."

"'s why I told you to trust me," he smirked, grabbing her by the arm as they were on the run again. "You're too tiny to have leapt this far."

"Shut up," she said. "Can I take off the hat now?"

"No," he said.

"But it keeps falling over my eyes. I can't half see where we're going," she complained.

"You don't need to," he answered. "Besides, with your direction sense, you wouldn't know even if you could see."

"You're so mean," she said. "Hey, this hat it too huge. How do you even manage to keep it on while you run around like this?"

"Swag," he said, seriously as they paused for a fraction of second at the edge of another gap between roofs. "Can you leap this one?"

"I… guess," she hesitated but he was already over on the other side. The marines were closing in on either sides, from the back and even down in the street. Without another thought, she jumped—and almost didn't make it. _Almost._

As she stumbled over, knocking over him, he gasped.

"You're _heavy_—"

"Shut _up_."

They continued to leap over roofs but the marines were not just about to give up. Their numbers in fact seemed to be going up every next street.

"This is no good," he said, breathing hard. "They're too many."

"Then we only have one option," Xena said, halting at once, staring straight ahead where the harbor lay in the dark, only the silhouettes of ships visible from the distance.

"What?" he asked, pulling at her but she stayed grounded.

"We have to get off the island," she said, pointing at the harbor.

"How—"

"Maybe you should just try and trust me for once," she threw his words back at him.

"Roger," he grinned. Then without a warning, grabbed her and jumped off the roof. She screamed as they slid over the canvas shade of a shop, landing unscathed. Without a moment of delay, they ran straight ahead, blowing the marines out of the way.

"Firefist," she yelled, surveying the harbor. "How many people do you think are needed to man that little ship over there?"

"It's not too big," he said. "One can handle it just fine. Two would be a great number."

"Right," she nodded. "Can you distract the marines for a while. Once I get it to set sail. Follow up in five minutes."

"Roger that," he winked before throwing more fire at the pursuers and taking a right, slowing down just enough to let them spot him.

She continued to run straight down the street. Compared to a five hundred and fifty million bounty pirate, she didn't hold a candle to him, which was fair enough for all the marines followed after him. If they hadn't been running off together, she was sure they'd just have let her be. They were after the infamous pirate after all. Not the wicked waitress-slash-failed-bounty-hunter.

As she neared the harbor, she could see the merchant ferry being readied to set sail. The ferry that would've safely taken them away if it hadn't been for this crazy mess. She leapt aboard, grabbed the first person she could find and pressed the dagger to his throat, pointing the gun she'd "borrowed" at the remaining two who now looked rather bewildered.

"Set sail," she snapped at them. "Now."

"B-but the captain—"

"I said _now_," she yelled, firing a bullet.

They set about frantically arranging the sails and hauling the anchor. The wind was in favor and within minutes, the ship was pulling away from the coast. She looked back a little panicky. If the ship sailed any further, Ace wouldn't be able to get on.

"Looking for something?" that was his voice. She turned around to see him sitting by the railing nonchalantly.

"Stealthy," she grinned, relieved. Then noticing they still had men on board, one of whose throat she still had by the knife, she turned back to them. "You. Do you know how to swim?"

"Y-yes," the man said, too afraid to nod his head.

"Good," she said, sheathing the dagger and knocking the man over the edge without warning. When she looked at the other two, they gulped, nodded and jumped off the ship on their own. As they landed with three consecutive loud splashes, she looked over the railing, waved at them and yelled. "Sorry."

"You're amazing, Xena-chan," Ace laughed as he walked over to her and took back his hat.

"I know," she grinned.

The wind against her cheek felt like the first taste of freedom she'd had. Maybe it was out of relief that she for once felt happy being back in the sea.

"See," he said, noticing the wide smile which was really just hard to miss. "You're not scared of the sea _now_."

"I'm not," she agreed. "I just… I hated it… before… but now it feels a lot safer."

"Welcome to the pirate life," he grinned and her smile wavered.

"I'm not a pirate," she said quietly.

"Wouldn't you want to be one?" he said.

"I told you," she said. "I _hate_ pirates."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"I just do," she said with a tone of finality. She had the faraway look in her eyes which said it all. There was going to be no more mention about it.

He shrugged, knowing there was no point saying anything. The sudden glumness reminded him… it was time he took a nap.

* * *

**A/N: that was one tough chapter to write. Phew. Anyway I have another **_**really**_** elaborate idea for an AceXSabo fanfic with OC twist XD I'll write that some time. This is gonna be one long fic though so I don't know.**

**I'd like to thank **_**Ace Portgas D, Gianti-Faith, Amymikaelson, Tater. the. psycho. cat **_** and **_**denvitadroppen**_** for favorite/following. Big thanks to **_**M0M3NTAI, SNicole25**_** and **_**Gianti-Faith**_** for reviewing.**

**Well, let me know how good or bad this story is going or any thoughts you have. It's gonna get the updates faster at least *winks***

**Thank you for reading!**


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